Blue That Grows Brighter
by hallowgirlfrommars
Summary: "While he'd never admit it, Dean would have to say, if only to himself, that these days, Cas's eyes might be his favourite sight in the world." Dean keeps getting distracted by Castiel's eyes. It might be easier if they weren't so damn pretty. Inspired by the song Prettiest Eyes by the Beautiful South.


**Short, sweet little Destiel fic. It was inspired by the song Prettiest Eyes by the Beautiful South which is one of the sweetest love songs I've ever heard. It just made sense to me that Dean would focus on Cas's eyes-I mean, have you seen the amount of times they stare at each other?**

**Look for the author's note at the end!**

* * *

_And the things, the things that people do in the dark_

_I could hear the faintest beat of your heart-The Beautiful South_

* * *

The first time Dean looks at Castiel, the things he should be noticing are the wings or the weird coat or the fact he's just knocked out the closest thing Dean's got to a father anymore, but instead the only thing that grabs him, roots him to the floor, are the pair of big blue eyes staring back at him.

Even when he tells him to get the hell out, even when Castiel is steadfastly explaining how he warned Pamela not to spy on his true form, Dean is taking in those blue eyes, the head tilted to the side, that slightly confused, innocent look as Castiel stares at him.

_You don't think you deserve to be saved..._

He shakes his head later on, shoves those big blue eyes out of his mind, because they're the eyes of some vessel anyway, they're not _Castiel's_ eyes, and he's got better things to worry about anyway. But every time he thinks of Castiel, he thinks of those big blue eyes and that head tilted to the side and every time the angel's speaking to him, he sees that wide gaze, big blue depths that Dean stares into until he has to look away. The word that keeps coming to his mind is _pretty _but Dean keeps shoving that word away, because if there's one thing he knows, it's that dudes do not use the word _pretty _about other dudes.

* * *

The first night Cas gets drunk they're sitting on the step together, Cas holding those aspirin, and Dean staring at him. And God, Cas can be a freaking moron at times but Dean's sitting next to him, the sleeve of Cas's trench coat brushing his arms and the angel's staring ahead with those big blue eyes and Dean's got to admit, he feels bad.

So, he puts his hand on Cas's arm and Cas tilts his head back to let his eyes meet Dean's. "That was unpleasant" he says, his voice a low rasp in his throat and Dean feels his lips twitch in a smirk, lets his finger brush Castiel's lips. The angel's mouth opens a little and then he lets his gaze fall away, a lip being nibbled between his teeth.

"Next time you want to get drunk" says Dean and his hand moves to Castiel's shoulder now-don't think about why he doesn't want to pull away, don't think about the warmth of Cas's skin, just a few freaking _inches_ away. "Do it with me."

And Castiel lifts his head, his eyes raising back to Dean's and with a quick swallow, nods, those big blue depths pulling at Dean's gaze. "Thank you" says the angel, and then Dean's fingers wrap around Castiel's and tug his hand closer. And he doesn't think about why, his eyes staring into that blue gaze.

_Pretty,_ thinks his brain.

_Shut up,_ Dean thinks a second later.

* * *

It turns out that Castiel's never seen fireworks-of course he hasn't-so on the 4th of July, Dean remembers the time he bought some cheap fireworks for Sammy when they were kids and set them off in a field and so he tells Sammy to drive off and get some while he takes Cas into a field at the side of a highway and tells him about the 4th of July.

"I am aware of the Declaration of Independence, Dean" says Castiel, a slightly dry note to his voice this time and Dean bites back a smirk at those eyes, narrowed and bright, as if suspecting Dean of making fun of him.

"How've you never seen fireworks?" he asks, but then again, Cas has never lost his V-card either, so what does Dean expect?

"I am aware of what they are" says Castiel, those eyes blinking away. "I've simply never experienced them."

Dean snorts. "Well, you don't want to experience them, Cas, they'll blow your head off."

Castiel rolls his eyes, once again, and Dean tries to ignore the lurch in his chest at the sight of that blue.

"I am aware of that, Dean" and Cas's voice is heavy with sarcasm this time. Dean bites back another grin. "I simply never witnessed them."

"Well, now you can-" and Dean turns to see Sammy carrying the box of fireworks towards them.

Cas stares at the box of fireworks as Dean lights the touchpaper and Dean notices that though the angel keeps his lips pressed carefully together, his eyes are bright in the dusk evening, and there seems to be an energy suddenly trapped in his body. Dean keeps his own eyes avoided, as he sets the firework off, his hand reaching for Castiel's to pull him back. The angel's fingers wrap around his own unthinkingly, as Cas stares at the firework, those eyes huge, staring until the firework explodes into the sky and the angel's mouth falls open, the explosion far away still illuminating the bright blue and the angel's fingers tighten around Dean's.

Dean keeps his eyes on Castiel's face, feeling his own grin broaden at the sight of Cas's eyes stretched wide, his mouth spreading into a delighted smile at the sight of the colours. With the big eyes and the smile, Cas looks kind of like a kid, and Dean thinks back to himself and then remembers he never really saw fireworks until he was roped into getting them for Sammy. Castiel is staring at the sky, those eyes huge and blue, and Dean's arm falls around his shoulders before he thinks twice about it. The word _pretty _is what leaps to mind again and this time, Dean doesn't push it away. Or at least, not quite as fast.

It's when Sammy hands them the sparklers that Dean takes Cas's hand and guides it up, helping him write his name. Castiel stares at the sparkler, blinks at the light forming the letters of his name. "Dean-" he says and then Dean does the same thing with his own. In the light of the fireworks, he catches Sam drawing what looks suspiciously like a heart and nudges Castiel in the ribs before he can see.

"Thank you, Dean" and Dean meets Cas's gaze. Castiel is staring at him, his lips nudged in a smile, his eyes so bright through the dark. "This is very enjoyable."

Dean wants to say something-anything-but all the words have gone out of his head. All he can do is grin and nod and pull Cas closer, letting the angel's head rest on his shoulder for a minute and completely ignoring how warm his skin is as he raises their hands again to write their names together in the sky.

* * *

When it snows on Christmas Eve, Dean tugs Cas outside. He offers to let Sam come too but Sammy's avoiding his eyes and with that suspicious smirk at his mouth again, is shaking his head, saying he's got too much research to do but Dean and Cas should go, go and have fun. Dean narrows his eyes but Castiel's staring out of the window, those eyes huge again, and Dean eventually shrugs and tugs Cas out of the door.

It's when they get outside that Castiel's jaw drops and he stares up at the sky. "Dean-" He points upwards and it's hard for Dean to remember that Cas could smite an entire city if he wants when he's staring up like a little kid. "Dean, look."

Dean looks up where some snowflakes are still falling. "Yeah, I know, buddy." He picks up a handful of snow and hands it to Cas who flinches when it makes contact with his skin but still squeezes it in his hands. "It is softer than I thought" he says and Dean tries not to let his eyes linger on Cas's hand movements there.

"Yeah" he says and then he sprinkles some snow over Cas's hair.

"Dean!" Cas shakes his head, his lips going into that pouting shape but a smile tugging at his mouth all the same. The snow settles in his hair and Castiel's eyes are bluer than ever as they stare into Dean's, and then Dean grabs the snow and crumbles it into his own hair.

He's about to tell Cas to get him back when he remembers something and takes hold of Castiel's wrist. "You ever heard of snow angels?" he asks, feeling that it might be the appropriate moment.

Castiel frowns and Dean demonstrates. "Watch." He lies back, spreading his arms and legs, weaving them through the snow until he's made a shape. "See?" He looks at Cas, scrambling to his feet, who is examining the shape in the snow with some interest. "You have a go."

Castiel swallows. "All right." He lies down in the snow cautiously, and slowly moves his arms and legs. Dean kneels down next to him, the better to take in the view.

"You know, my wings are actually far larger than this" says Castiel, his lip caught between his teeth. "A true shape of an angel would actually be far bigger and there would be considerable-"

Dean climbs on top of him and Cas shuts up rather abruptly. "Cas" and Dean leans forward to notice that Castiel's eyelashes are long and brushing his cheeks and frosted with snowflakes and God, his eyes are the prettiest thing Dean's ever seen. And that just might be the gayest thing he's ever thought but somehow, he doesn't care-it's just Cas.

Castiel's gone quiet, his chest heaving up and down suddenly and his cheeks flushed against the snow, his eyes brighter than ever. His eyes flicker from Dean's to his lips and then back again. "Dean?" and his voice is a question.

Dean leans forward, meaning to scoop up some more snow and crumble it into Cas's hair but somehow he falls forward and his lips are an inch away from Cas's. Cas's eyes widen and it's them-that big blue gaze-that makes Dean lean in closer.

And then he just slides his hands into Cas's hair and gently tilts their mouths together and closes his eyes and loses himself in the feeling of Cas's lips, warm and soft against his.

They're softer than Dean expected and there's a slight scratch of stubble against his skin and he feels Castiel's surprised gasp and then the angel's hands curl in the back of Dean's hair and his lips move slowly, cautiously back, kissing Dean gently at first then growing stronger as Dean's hands tighten in the back of Castiel's hair, and his tongue gently dances across the angel's lips. Castiel gasps and his mouth falls open to let Dean inside, and his legs wrap around the base of Dean's spine, holding him there, his trench coat spread around them both like a blanket.

When Dean pulls his mouth away, he looks down at Castiel and feels his lips twitch in a smile. "You OK?" he says and Castiel nods slowly, his eyes still wide, and now full of something, something that lights him up from the inside. "Dean" he says and the word is soft on his lips as Dean places a finger to Castiel's mouth.

"Don't say anything" he says, his own voice a whisper and he tilts his mouth back to Castiel's.

The snow is freezing against their skin but Dean barely feels it. Instead, all he feels is Castiel's hair between his fingers, and Castiel's mouth open against his and the slamming of Castiel's heart against his and all he hears are Castiel's ragged breaths against his skin and the soft sounds from the back of his throat and all he sees are those eyes, those blue, blue eyes, wider than ever and pulling Dean in, pulling Dean in until he drowns in them, with the words _blue_ and _pretty_ and_ Cas _whispering in his ears.

* * *

It's several nights later, in another motel room, with Cas beneath him, his skin slick against Dean's , his mouth gasping Dean's name like a mantra and Dean's face buried in his neck afterwards, both of them gasping for breath, the aftershocks still trembling through his body, that Dean's thumb traces underneath Castiel's eyes and says "Your eyes are pretty."

And OK, this is the sort of sweet talk he'd never be caught saying any other time to anyone else but he sees Cas's eyes light up and he's glad he said it.

* * *

The time goes on. There's demon attacks and fighting and Christmases and nights in bars and drives in the Impala and there's fights and possessions and everything else. But Dean likes to nestle his head against Castiel's and wait for the angel to turn to him and smile slowly, those eyes lighting up, deep blue that seems to grow brighter with each time Dean stares at them.

And these days, that's a lot because-while he'd never admit it-Dean would have to say, if only to himself, that these days, Cas's eyes might be his favourite sight in the world.

Obviously, there are others he likes. Mostly Cas-related. But Cas's eyes are the thing he looks into when he wakes up after some demon attack, Cas's eyes are the things that turn bright with excitement whenever they're in the Impala-even though he still likes to point out angels can fly faster-Cas's eyes are what he knows, even when everything else is upside down.

And Dean has to face it, there could be worse things to know better than anything else. And right now, the sight he'd pick every time is Cas's eyes.

They are kind of pretty, after all.

* * *

_You can't have too many good times, children_

_You can't have too many lines_

_Take a good look at these crows' feet_

_Sitting on the prettiest eyes-The Beautiful South._

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that. :) I'm thinking of writing a hundred little Destiel stories-separate ones, all a little longer than drabbles, but not as long as regular stories, just based on a series of prompts I've already got. I've already started writing them and I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to start posting them soon!**

**Hope you enjoyed the story. Please leave a review! :)**


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